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The clear voice came strong from the small lump of a girl. Polio didn’t touch her in her lungs, he guessed, wanting to chuckle. Still, Cat turned on the child with a wild ferocity.
“You better never let me hear you speaking like that again, Andie. Do you understand? I’ll smack you into next week.”
“Hey, hey now, Cat. This little chocolate drop is right. I’m used to that.” Mike reached over to the girl and took her by her twisted hand and squeezed it a bit. “How you feel, honey?”
The child seemed startled by his touch, as did Cat. She turned on him with the same ferocity as she had with the girl. “Don’t you touch her.” She reached over and broke his hold on the girl and gave his arm a hard push. “Leave her alone. I’ll find somewhere else to take her, somewhere you won’t be.”
Mike withdrew his hand, and folded it together with the other, trying not to show how her reaction made a sweet pain course through his limbs. He deserved that, every bit. But not the small lump of humanity beneath the sheets. “What’s wrong with her? Polio?”
Cat nodded her head. The worry came back into her face. She didn’t look so dignified any more, and his heart went out to her. “I’m sorry Cat. Truly.”
Her eyes came up and flashed at him again. “We’ll be alright. Just go on about your business.”
“I’ma talk to my boss here. See what we can do.”
“Nothing will be done, Myron.” She knew it would hurt him to use his real name. “They won’t have us up in here because we’re Negroes. Or didn’t you notice?”
“I noticed, Catherine.” He let the name trip off of his tongue. “It’s enough they have me up in here to work.”
“As a janitor?”
Yes, he hurt her plenty. She kept on punching at him. He deserved it. “Let’s say that’s what I do, if you want.”
“You had that bucket in your hand.”
He looked at her again. A bright, fierce intelligence shone from her brown eyes.
“Not much getting past you, chocolate drop. I can see that.” He smiled at the girl trying to calm her. “We going to get you a place to rest and start to work on your treatment.”
Cat’s gaze at him was wary. “I don’t want you touching her.”
The squeaky sound of the lift and proper voices upraised reached him and he laid a finger to his lips. Funny how he could always get Cat to silence herself by pointing to his lips. Might have brought back the memories of the good old days. It sure did for him.
John Casey O’Brien stepped forward to the little group as Sarah came around the back of her desk and perched herself at her desk, on watch again. Mike folded his hands. “Afternoon, Mr. O. These ladies here, need our help here at the home and I’m hoping you can be there for them.”
“Well, now, Mike. It’s all fine and good that they’ve come. But we don’t have room just now.”
“Well now, Mr. O. That’s not quite it. Not sure if you heard that the Monroe boy got to go on home. His room is available.”
Mr. O nodded. “I know. Saw him off myself this morning.”
“Well, then, we can have that room ready for little missy here.”
“You not working in administration here, Mike, you may not know we have a waiting list of children who have injuries from polio waiting to come over from Children’s. No one can just show up here expecting to be admitted.”
Mr. O dipped his head to Cat, whose eyes, tilted in feline grace, narrowed. She stepped forward with some papers in her hand and Mike took them from her. “You must not have seen these here orders signed by Children’s. Wonder why they sent her over here, knowing that they know about the home.”
He held them out to Mr. O.
John stepped back from them as if they carried some dread disease. Still, didn’t take no reading or close notice to see what the papers were. “The home is very expensive here, ma’am. Only the finest care is provided here.”
Mike loosened the tension of the room by laughing. “Well, now. Why do you think this beautiful lady has brought her daughter here? She knows that. We all know it working here like we do. We have all these patients coming here for help, seem like this polio done really spread this summer.”
Mr. O turned beet red. “Your kind don’t get polio the same way as others.”
Angry words bubbled to his lips and there was time he would have spoken them. He knew better now. “I got to disagree with you, sir. Old wisdom, there Mr. O. Not true. And now, with this more recent wave, it’s going to be children of all colors and races looking to come. Might as well start now.”
Turning to observe the small lump of humanity underneath the sheets, his boss seemed to cave.
